Acts of Contrition
by DreadNot
Summary: Three months have passed since WWIII and Alexander Anderson is ready to start over starting with a simple act of confession and contrition. Birthday gift for Thess. One shot.


Father Robert Callahan was tired. He had slept poorly since WWIII had begun and abruptly ended three months ago. The entire world was shocked by what the destruction of London had revealed about not just the existence of vampires, but of one particular vampire and his blasphemously godlike power. Father Callahan was not the only person who had been dumbfounded by how handily the no longer fictional Dracula had wiped out Millennium's army of vampires. 

St. Joseph's Church had been one of many Washington DC buildings destroyed by Millennium's lesser attack on the US Capitol. Unsurprising, given its proximity to Capitol Hill. Father Callahan had been out of town on personal business the day that WWIII started and was the only priest of St. Joseph's to survive. He now oversaw the reconstruction of the church and led services in a temporary structure that never failed to remind him of a circus tent.

Once again he ministered to members of the US Congress, White House staffers, and three members of the US Supreme Court. The difference was that now the talks he had and the confessions he heard told him that these people really _believed,_ instead of just going through the motions.

This morning he had an appointment to administer the Sacrament of Penance to a priest who was visiting Washington from England. He'd had some difficulty understanding the man's accent over the phone, but came to understand that he would be seeing Father Alexander Anderson at 9:00 a.m. to hear his confession.

Until the church was rebuilt, Father Callahan had arranged a makeshift confessional in one of the parsonage's empty bedrooms. It was nothing more than a sheet that separated two chairs, but it sufficed to provide the perception of privacy or anonymity that people wanted.

At 9:00 sharp, he heard the bedroom door open and close, the sound of boots walking across the room, and the protesting creak of the chair as someone sat. The silence stretched for a moment before Father Callahan said, "Good morning."

He heard a man clear his throat and answer, "Aye." Another shift of the man in his chair and he began speaking in a thick but understandable brogue, "Bless me Father, for I have sinned. It has been three months since my last confession."

Father Callahan raised an eyebrow but remained silent. This man was a priest; he was surprised that it had been so long since he had last confessed. But, given the state of the world and the timing of his last confession, perhaps this Father Anderson had been busy in helping with the aftermath of the war.

"I have many sins to confess – sins of rage, pride, jealousy and hate." Father Callahan looked at the shadow on the other side of the hanging sheet with a curiosity he was glad the other man could not see.

"And I have taken actions that others, including the Church, would consider sinful, but which I do not regret."

Oh, this Father Anderson was very interesting - much more interesting than the endless confessions of envying the neighbor's car or petty infidelities.

"Three months ago I was in London and I fought the damned and the undead, first in the name of our Church; then I saw our Church stumble and fail, and I fought on in the name of God and in the name of a woman.

"Yes, a woman. I saw that my Church had failed in its duty to God. My archbishop was not interested in the souls of the people he ordered killed; he only cared about his own power. But worse, he did so with the order and blessing of the Pope. From the top down, our Church is rotting."

Father Callahan looked up sharply at the bitterness and anger in the man's voice.

"I gave the archbishop into the hands of Dracula's slaves." His voice rose, "And he deserved it!"

Callahan could hear Anderson take a deep breath and when he continued, his voice was level and closer to calm. "Enrico ordered the murder of women and children and he deserved to be judged and punished. I did it and I do not regret it.

"I killed Catholic knights that day – men who did not think about the right or wrong of their actions, because if they'd thought, they would have seen that they were not doing God's work in killing the innocent humans in London. I left the knights who only fought vampires alive, but I slew every knight who had human blood on his hands. I brought God's swift justice of an eye for an eye to them and I do not regret it because I know that the Church would not have given them the justice they deserved.

At this point Father Callahan thought there was little that Father Anderson could say that would shock him more. He was wrong, as Anderson's next words proved. "Because our Church is corrupt and sinful I choose to serve another."

Father Callahan cleared his throat, "Are you telling me that you have abandoned our Church? Why are you here for confession if that is true?"

Anderson's voice dropped to a growl, "I haven't abandoned our Church, our Church has abandoned its true charge to lead and guide people to God, being more interested in earthly dominion than in God's will."

"But you also say that you don't regret these sins. Father Anderson, you know that confession is to express your heartfelt regret for transgressing against God and to expiate those sins for the good of your immortal soul." Callahan was growing more afraid to contradict the man on the other side of the sheet by the minute.

"Let me finish and ye'll understand."

Anderson continued, "After the day that I fought in London, I could not return to Rome. I could not return to serving an institution that was more traitorous than my own treacherous division, Iscariot."

_Iscariot?_ But Iscariot was just a rumor, a bogeyman division to keep questioning clergy in line – "Don't ask questions if you don't want Section XIII to come and question you." Callahan's fear grew and he twisted suddenly sweaty hands in his lap.

"That day I left behind everything I had valued and gave myself to serving God through Integral Hellsing."

Callahan's heart skipped a beat and he looked fearfully at Father Anderson's shadow.

"Yes, I think everyone's heard her name by now - she who holds Dracula's leash, she who fought in London and now lends her aid to the other countries that Millennium attacked. I follow her with no regret or doubt in my mind.

"I do have other feelings for her; ones that confuse and conflict me at times. I serve God with as much faith and fervor as I ever have. Despite being declared anathema, I consider myself a faithful priest and servant of God, but I cannot reconcile my place as a renegade priest with some of the desires I feel when looking at her."

_Anathema._ The man sitting on the other side of the sheet was anathema. He should not be there and Father Callahan should not be listening to him. Knowing now that Father Anderson – no, not Father Anderson, just Mr. Anderson – was anathematized and sitting next to him, left Father Callahan covered in a thin sheen of sweat and a fear so great he wasn't sure how much more of it he could take before he vomited, ran, or both.

"She hasn't encouraged me to leave my vow of celibacy, but I think that she would not be angry if I did. She has mentioned recently that she will need to have a child – another Hellsing to keep Dracula controlled. She talked about the traits she wanted in a father for her child, and I don't think that it's merely pride that makes me believe she was describing me." Anderson's tone had softened when he began to speak of Integral Hellsing.

"She is a strong and honorable woman; stronger than any other person, human or not, that I have known. And now she supports me in fulfilling what I consider to be part of my mission from God to cut out some of the Church's cancer, since the patient cannot treat itself."

Anderson's shadow shifted as though he had turned in his seat to directly face Father Callahan through the sheet. "Millennium infiltrated governments and the Catholic Church with equal ease. They promised immortality to men and women who were fool enough to believe that anything other than God is eternal. Some of their cat's paws were revealed the day the war started, some hid themselves when they saw that immortality was nothing but an empty promise."

The priest was frozen in his seat while he watched the shadow rise to a towering height and then the sheet between them was pulled down and he looked into the gleaming green eyes of a scarred man in a clerical collar and long gray greatcoat.

"How many confessions did ye violate and retell to Millennium, _Father_ Callahan? How many congressmen or women were blackmailed by Millennium because of information ye gave the vampires? Did ye give them the three Catholics on the Supreme Court as well?" Anderson's voice was rising with every question until his last question came out as a shout, "Was it worth the cost of yer soul?"

The last thing Father Robert Callahan saw was the huge priest's fist sprouting a gleaming crop of knives.

•••

Integral Hellsing was leaning against a limousine with diplomatic plates that was parked outside the parsonage. She took the cigar out of her mouth when Anderson exited the building and smiled. "Did it goes as you planned, Alexander?"

"Aye, Integral." He pulled a small book out of his pocket and scratched a name out with a pencil. "One down, four hundred seven to go."

_

* * *

In quick laymen's terms, anathema means that the person anathematized has been judged as going to Hell and the church washes its hands of him. It's the punishment that I think most non-Catholics think of when they hear "excommunication." Excommunication is not nearly as serious as being anathematized._


End file.
